You Had Me At Hello
by SilenceIsInfinite
Summary: To Max Ride, there's no such thing as love at first sight. And it's hard to prove that wrong when she lives in a small town that gets news of everything even before it arrives. But there's no warning when Fang Walker comes into her life; it's like he slowly appeared out of thin air. AU. No wings. FAX.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello~ I know, I started a new story yesterday, but I just couldn't help myself. **

**So, I was on Pandora today, listening to my Mayday Parade radio, when A Day to Remember comes on. Now, I LOVE that band, so I turned it up really high. It was acoustic, the song, and it was called "You Had Me At Hello". It is THE most cute song that I have ever heard, and the inspiration for this story :D.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does.**

* * *

"Max, could you get the mail? I think I just saw him stop by, and that package from your Aunt Julia should be here." My mother craned her head to the left to see if she could still see the mailman delivering letters and packages.

"Alright," I said, putting down my pencil. Silently, I thanked her for the distraction. My head was beginning to hurt from the mass amounts of work that I had to do for school. High school isn't as fun as people think, but it's definitely as horrible.

The door creaked when I opened it. The October breeze blew through my untamed blonde hair, the sun beaming down. Although the weather was beautiful today, it had rained last night and the lawn was still wet.

We lived in a small town called Greenwood—my family and I—where there was always news of something minutes after it had happened. There were no secrets here, which bothered some people, but the gossip was usually on the down key. A few people aside, we were usually neighborly to everyone. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't be as nice to everyone as my family was.

I opened our mailbox, the typical one for a rural neighborhood. There were magazines and letters, and a brown box the size of my head sitting next to it. I stuck the box under my left arm, the letters in my right hand. I closed it with my open finger.

Clumsily, I dropped one of the magazines into a puddle. Swearing under my breath, I was about to retrieve it until I found that someone else had done it for me.

I straightened myself, ready to attempt to thank the stranger with a warm smile. My mother had tried teaching me how to do this many times, but it always seemed unreal.

"Thank you," I said, taking the magazine from the stranger's outstretched hand. I lifted my head up so I could see who I was thanking.

My brown eyes clashed with obsidian black. The stranger—now a he—had eyes that were as black as coal, and as cold and unseeing as them as well. Everything about him revolved around the color black: jet black hair that ended just below his ear, black clothing, shoes, _everything_. He even had a black lip ring. The only thing that _wasn't_ black was his skin, which was an olive-toned color. He was also young, looking to be my age—fifteen.

He was also handsome. _Very _handsome.

He nodded at me, as if recognizing my thanks. "Hello," he said. I wasn't sure if it was him talking or the wind, but it must have been. His lips moved the same time the words came.

For some reason, butterflies welled up in my stomach. I was suddenly nervous, which was absurd, seeing as this person had only said one word to me. I didn't even know his name.

Strangely enough, I wanted to run from the mailbox and into my house and continue living life normally. I wanted to be anywhere but near here, next to this boy.

I wasn't afraid of him; it was _definitely _the opposite. It was the fact that there was _no _news about him. Surely the girls at school would be talking about a new student—especially a handsome one—or the mothers scolding the lack of color in his apparel when seeing him on the streets. A new house that would have been bought would have even given question to a new family.

But there was no news at all.

On the outside, I was calm. I smiled to him. One of the biggest and most fake ones that I had ever given to someone. "I'm Max," I said.

"Fang." He pointed at himself. Clearly, he wasn't a person of many words.

I nodded my head and thanked him one last time before retreating into my home, closing the door lightly behind me.

"What took so long?" my mother asked as I deposited all of the mail onto the kitchen counter.

I shrugged, sitting back down at the kitchen table. "We've got a new neighbor."

_There's no such thing as love at first sight, _I reminded myself.

* * *

**This is going to be such a cute story~ *Sighs dreamily***

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hiya! 6 review on the first chapter is a lot, so thank you! :D Without delay, here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. James Patterson does!**

* * *

With a town as small as Greenwood, no one finds a need for school busses. That alone is enough for the super intendants to stop the flow of them around town. Without them, I'm forced to walk.

I wished that they were still here today.

Last night, all I could think about was Fang. That itself was incredibly idiotic; I couldn't name five things I knew about him. But every time I closed my eyes, a picture of his face would enter my mind.

Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep last night.

With each step I took, my backpack felt like it was weighing me down more than possible. I could feel the textbooks mashing up against one another as they bounced up and down when I climbed the stairs to the school.

Sighing, I gripped the railing. It was times like these that I knew _exactly _what being elderly must be like.

The door to Mrs. Buckley's classroom made the same croak that the one at home had made. I couldn't help but think it was a sign of forewarning as I sat down in my seat - a desk by the window in the back of the classroom.

The bell rang. Had it only been ten minutes ago when I left my house? It had felt like years, for some reason.

I propped an elbow up against my desk, watching a spider scale up the side of it. It was another windy October day, one that was considerably dark and ominous. It was chilly, having a result that I wear a black sweater rather than the tees from summer. The weather was toning down; and autumn was approaching.

My attention was to the door when the door creaked open again. Mrs. Buckley was stopped mid sentence from her lecture on _Lord of the Flies._

Whoever it was hadn't walked through the doorway. Mrs. Buckley blinked a few times, but gave the person a welcoming smile.

"Are you in the right classroom?" she asked. "Come on in. Maybe I can help you?" The words were turned into a question rather than an invitation.

He walked in, handing Mrs. Buckley his timetable, but didn't say anything.

It was Fang.

I must have said his name out loud, because all attention was on me in the next split second. Fang didn't show any surprise, but still recognized me with a smirk. "Max," he said. His voice was only a few pitches above a whisper.

The students in the room were no doubt gossiping to each other. I could already imagine what they were saying: 'Who is he?' 'How does she know him?' '_Damn_, he's good looking!'

Maybe that last one was just me. But I couldn't help myself. I _was _a teenager.

"You two know each other?" Mrs. Buckley asked, pointing to the two of us. He nodded. "Alright, um," she consulted the timetable, "Fang, is it?" He nodded again. "Well, it's a pleasure to have you in our class! Why don't you take a seat next to Max?"

There were a few protests as Fang sat down next to me.

"Hello again," he whispered, pulling out the chair to sit down. There was a toothy grin on his face.

With that one smile, I felt like the room had brightened up considerably. My eyes flickered to the clock, expecting the time to be irregular, telling me it was a dream. At least I would know that if the time were 76:90 AM.

It was 7:52. Time was normal. The spider was still crawling up the side of the window, now beginning to make a web.

An earthquake hadn't sounded, like I'd expect from someone as mysterious as Fang appearing. In fact, nothing seemed to be off at all.

Which is why I looked at him dead in the eye and said, "Hello, mystery."

* * *

**I like how this is flowing, but I don't know if I should continue it or not. I don't know. We'll see.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! It's really been a while since I updated. Anyway, here's chapter 3!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does!**

* * *

He raised his eyebrows suggestively at me, but otherwise didn't say anything to acknowledge my idiocy. Fang shook his head while smiling, as if there was some secret that I wasn't a part of replaying in his mind.

"If only you knew," he whispered under his breath.

When my attention was turned from Fang's, I had noticed that the entire room had paused whatever they were doing in an attempt to look at Fang and I, Mrs. Buckley being the only exception to it. Their stares were hollow, as if unfocused on the two of us, searching for something that didn't exist behind us.

I wasn't so used to all the attention on me. No, I wasn't one of geeks or the nerds, but I wasn't miss popularity, either. Usually, I wasn't talked to because of the lack of respect for people I had. Of course, that wasn't a huge surprise.

It irked me that all of this attention was on the two of us - mainly Fang - while it never had been. I liked people noticing me (Who didn't?), but it was annoying that after all this time they chose _now_.

"Having fun?" I questioned out loud, silencing the room with a cold glare. Few people flinched, and all attention was parted from Fang and I.

* * *

The cafeteria was split into four different sections, made by the student body especially: populars on the nicer, less beaten down tables; nerds and geeks in the bottom right corner of the room, where all the lights had dimmed to an extent where the area seemed ominous; regulars on the tables that were in slightly worse condition than others with the occassional squeak or wobble from a chair; the outcasts with shining and glimmering tables, one for each antisocial or disabled kid.

With a sigh, I sat down at one of the spotless tables, hearing the crinkle of paper as I pulled a sandwich from my paper bag.

Peanut butter and jelly again. Normally, I wouldn't be so picky, but my mother hadn't gone shopping in two weeks from working so often. I barely saw her anymore, and the rare moments when I did were when she was perched at the kitchen table and reading files about her patients. She tried to support us, but it was hard when the absence of a father was unsettling and empty.

I must have been thinking too intently. My teach clang together and made a loud chatter, and my eyes widened in surprise that I had already devoured the sandwich in my hands without noticing.

My blonde hair whipped to the right when I heard chuckling beside me. Fang was watching me intently with a bagel in his hand. He raised an eyebrow at my antics, and my cheeks battled a blush of embarrassment. This shouldn't be happening. I was supposed to sit alone.

"Yes?" I asked him, as if almost chewing on my fingers were a normal activity.

Fang shook his head before taking another bite of his sandwich. When he swallowed, he acknowledged me again.

"Hello," he said, looking into my brown eyes. There were a glint of amusement in his eyes as I looked back into his. And for a moment, I felt like we were the only people in the cafeteria. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black, like brewed coffee.

"Why are you here?" I asked, returning to the bag in front of me. I plucked an orange from its contents and began peeling it. The smell of citrus filled the table.

"You're sitting alone," Fang said, stating the obvious.

"And?"

"I thought I would join you."

"I see," I said nonchalantly, separating the orange and half and then taking a slice. I brought it to my lips but didn't eat anything. The picture of ease.

I looked calm, but really, my insides were burning from the pounding of my heart thudding in my ears. My heart felt like it was doubling in size. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, as if there was a singular flower in a field nearby a manufacturing plant.

Fang nodded, as if my answers were completely viable. "Why?" he asked suddenly, taking another bite of his bagel. It was plain, nothing on it.

"Why?" I asked him. "Why am I so amazing, beautiful, hilari-"

"No," he interjected, rolling his eyes. "Why are you sitting alone?"

I didn't skip a beat. "No friends."

"None?"

"Nope."

"What about me?" he asked, fixing his gaze on me.

"What about you?"

"Am I your friend?"

My heart was about to explode, I could feel it resounding in my chest with heavier thuds than possible.

"Yeah."

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**What did you think? XD.**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I certainly am annoying. Little old me forgot to update on this story and didn't do anything about it until I was reminded yesterday by a reviewer. LOL. MY BAD. **

**This story is both violent and faxilicious (Best word EVER), so you can kind of let your mind wander before you read this. ^_^**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does!**

* * *

_Clang! _

My body collided with the side of the lockers, one of the locks digging into the side of my arm. I staggered slightly, my hair falling over my eyes in wisps of brown and gold. Papers and textbooks fell through my arms in an ungraceful fashion, although that was the least of my concerns. A stream of hot air escaped my lips as I tried to control myself.

_They aren't worth it, _I reminded myself, bending down to pick up the few stray papers that escaped the mess that my binder had become. My arm was throbbing, but the pain was nothing but exasperating at this point.

"What happened to you, Ride?" A voice, no doubt my tormentor - Dylan - sneered. I ignored him, continuing to collect my belongings from the cheap, tiled flooring of the school. He stepped on my hand to keep me from moving. "This isn't you."

I attempted to wriggle my hand from underneath his sneaker, but his foot was like a boulder underneath my hand. The more I tried moving, the more pressure he would place under it. My head lifted from the curtain of my hair, glaring at him.

Dylan was no doubt intimidating, with a towering height of over six foot. His turquoise eyes were said to be beautiful, almost enchanting, but they were far from that with the glare as cold as ice that he always threw at me.

"You have no right to say that," I said, jerking my head to look upright at him. I stood, holding my belongings close to my chest. My fingers found their way to the side of my head, pulling the tousled hair behind my face. "I'll be whoever I want to be."

When I began walking away, my footsteps light, I wasn't aware of the crowd that had appeared. True, it was the end of the day, but the amount of people watching were exorbitant, even by the standards of Dylan's pathetic admirers.

Heavier steps followed mine, and I could almost see the parting of students behind me. A hand found gripped my shoulder and twisted me to look at him. Dylan.

"What is it?" I asked, tiredly, my fingers twitching to slap him in the face for grabbing me like I was his property. _He's not worth it. He's not worth it, Max, _I repeated, although I felt like I was reassuring myself more than anything.

Dylan grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me close to him. It was as if I had just entered a cliche bullying scene. "Get over yourself." He threw me headfirst against the wall.

This time, I wasn't as lucky. My head bashed against the doorframe of one of the science labs, and I felt blood trickling down my face. _He's not worth it; he's not worth it; he's not worth it._

_You're right, _I said to myself, standing up. _Which is why I'll make him feel worthless._ Woozily, I staggered forward up to Dylan, aware of all the eyes on the two of us. The glare that pierced his eyes would have made a grown man keel over, and he flinched. I brought up my hand and slapped him with everything I had. Unsatisfied, I punched him in the nose so hard that I heard a _crack_. As he was losing balance, I kicked him where it counted. He could barely keep standing, bloody and groaning in pain.

I bent down to his ear and whispered, "You first."

No one bothered to stop me after that.

* * *

"Auugh!" I screamed, entering the house and throwing my backpack onto the kitchen table in annoyance. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

In a town like Greenwood, everyone must have gotten news of the fight Dylan and I had done. The expectations and impressions that I had made sure to engrave onto the town were all gone, worthless, and I would go to the 'respectful and mature daughter of a veterinarian' to the 'untamable beast known as Maximum Ride'. Normally, I wouldn't have cared, but it was different this time. This time, I had done exactly what my father had told me _not _to do before he died.

_Relax, Bee, _he would say. _If you're patient and caring, hardships won't come as easily. _I could almost see my nine year old self staring at him in confusion. _You'll understand, Bee. If you don't, that's okay, too._

I was startled by a knock at the door, and then the familiar creak as it opened a minute later after I hadn't opened it. Who was it?

"Hello," a familiar voice said. I could hear his footsteps coming into the kitchen. When he did, my face softened. Fang.

"Why are you here?" I asked him, coming up to meet him. He frowned. "What?"

Fang didn't say anything, but instead moved to the sink. He wet a paper towel and returned to me, dabbing it on my face gently. "You're such an idiot," he said, probing the wound with his thumb. I gulped at his sudden touch, my skin feeling like fire where he'd touched me. After he finished cleaning, he gave me a thumbs up. "You'll live, but you'll have to live looking like a rebel for a while."

My eyes widened, and before I knew it, I was staring into my own reflection in the mirror while wincing at the sight.

There was a gash on my face that started above my eye, seemingly slashing through it vertically. It was red, although not infected, and definitely wasn't pretty. My hair was like a rat's nest, tendrils of hair sticking out every which way. The sleeve of my sweater had blood on it, seeped from hitting the locker squarely on my bicep. I bit my lip, absorbing my appearance.

"Well," I said dryly, glancing at Fang in the mirror, "this sucks."

He chuckled, leaning against the doorway. The sound resounded throughout the bathroom. I found myself dizzying at the beauty of it, steadying myself by putting a hand on the vanity.

"Max, your hand," Fang said, rushing towards me. He picked up my hand (Cue electrifying shocks) and ran his finger over the knuckles. They were scratched and raw, pink and red and grotesquely caked with blood. The back of my hand was black and blue, already bruising. My frown deepened.

Fang looked at me concern in his eyes, and I found myself staring into them. My gaze was blank, and I felt lightheaded again. I staggered backward a bit.

For some reason, I felt like laughing. "Everyone is going to think I'm a freak," I said, shaking my head.

Fang raised an eyebrow. "You're not a freak, and I'm someone."

"Like you don't believe that. You saw what I did to Dylan." I winced at the thought of it. Although he was a jerk, I didn't have to hit him that hard.

"That wasn't scary, Max," Fang said, rinsing my hand under the water and kneading through the piled up blood. His gaze joined mine again. "It was genius."

* * *

**BLAAAHH. I'm so tired. I was stalling completely while writing this, it took me about four hours because I was just wasting time around on the internet beforehand. I'm serious, I watched about 6 episodes of "Kuroko no Basuke" before I actually got to work.**

**WOO! GO PROCRASTINATION!**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! *Dodges brick***

**Long time no write...Ah, don't kill me. PLEASE don't kill me. I've had a lot going on, and I have a ton to say, too. LET'S BEGIN.**

**I'm going to start an updating sequence for all my stories, where I update once a week. So, here's how it's going to work for my stories:**

**Painfully Shy: Fridays. Familiar Encounters: Tuesdays. You Had Me At Hello: Thursdays. (Blake and I decided on this one) Definition of Insanity: Sundays.**

**ALSO, ON BEHALF OF BLAKE, if you read his stuff, he won't be updating for a while. He's in the middle of a depressive spell, and I can't even get him to eat sometime. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does!**

* * *

"So, anything exciting happen today?"

I set my pencil on the side of the kitchen table. It was late, almost eleven, and my mother was polishing the already clean dishes that usually resided in the back of the cupboards. The cleaning was unnecessary, and it was a known habit of my mother to keep busy.

"Not much," I said, leaning backward on the chair to stretch, tilting my head back to gaze at my mother. Our identical brown eyes met each other, and she sent me a knowing gaze.

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically, walking across the kitchen to put the ceramic bowl back in the cupboard.

Truly, there were many things that were exciting that happened today. I beat up the most worshiped boy in the school, made a friend, and felt like I could trust someone for the first time since my father's death.

You know, nothing monumental.

"Yes, I'm positive."

"So, you would call hitting that boy, Dylan, today at school as nothing?"

I set my jaw in irritation. There was no such thing as privacy in Greenwood, and it bothered me. What I would do just to leave this town and never look back, to live in a secluded place where my thoughts were simply _mine. _

"Mom, I can explain-"

"There will be no explanations, Maximum," my mother said, running a hand through her raven hair and tracing a finger down the rag she had used to polish the dishes. "I honestly thought better of you."

The words almost cause me to flinch. I hated it when my mother spoke to me with a calm tone, almost tired of me. It made me think that I'd disappointed her, that I wasn't worthy to be her daughter. Obviously, though, the fact that I had indeed _hit _a boy and kicked him in the Free Land... wouldn't make my mother reconsider her disappointment. It felt like I was being run over a freight train, though conscious the entire time, each car rolling past my body.

I didn't want to say anything else, something that would cause her to be angrier than she already was, but the words escaped my lips before I could stop them.

"Me, too."

I could hear the sound of the the rag being thrown on the floor in contempt as I gathered my things and walked to my room in absolute silence.

* * *

"Hello," Fang said, sliding down next to me at the lunch table. This time he only had a cup of grapes in his hand, popping a few in his mouth every so often between flickering his eyes at me and his grapes.

"Hi," I said, but my heart wasn't in it. I hadn't really liked arguing with my mother, but at times I felt like she didn't listen to me at all.

Fang swallowed another one of his green grapes. "You're sad. What's up?"

I blinked a few times, and then shifted position so that I was looking at him. His expression gave nothing away, although I could see hint of a smirk playing on his lips at the correct assumption.

There weren't many times when someone could read me so easily. My father was the only one before Fang, and could always cheer me up in a matter of seconds. Now, though, my barriers were full on iron. How had Fang burst through them?

"Nothing, really. My mom just gave me a hard time about the fight between Dylan and I. It wasn't too bad."

We stayed in a silence for a few minutes, the only noise being the chatter of other students and the swish of the skin of grapes being broken as Fang ate.

When Fang finished, he stood up to dispose of the container, leaving the table for a minute. He returned, but didn't sit back up at him. I peered up at him through my eyelashes, a curious expression on my face. Why wasn't he sitting?

"Are you done?" he asked me. I looked back my food, the typical sandwich. My mother still hadn't gone shopping.

"Yeah."

"Good," Fang said. He took my food in one hand, my wrist in the other. He dropped the sandwich in the trashcan, and tugged on my wrist again. He opened the double doors of the cafeteria with one hand and led me to the front of the building. "You need a break."

I held on tight to Fang, the butterflies in my chest fluttering in my stomach. They wouldn't cease, the contact of his skin on mine too breathtaking. The two of us were on his bicycle - a smart move on his part - and I had to cling onto him, wrapping my arms around his torso to keep balance.

The hum of the chains grew louder as we sped downhill, the wind causing my blonde hair to fall out beneath me, tendrils of golden hair tangled in the wind. Goosebumps started forming on my arms, whether from the chill of the wind or from Fang, I didn't know.

And then it all stopped.

I lifted my head up to look around, my eyes widening.

A crystalline lake surrounded by all sorts of plants came into view. Towering cliffs, almost the size of skyscrapers, with jagged edges perfect for climbing rose to form a 'U' shape around the lake. The ivy that draped along the cliffs looked picturesque, a waterfall creating ripples throughout the entire lake.

"Whoa," I said, stepping off the bike. Fang followed me. When I turned to look at him, I noticed that there was a smile on his face. It was so bright, so bright that I felt like the entire world had grew lighter in the span of three seconds. Although so, his smile didn't match his eyes, which almost seemed dejected.

I ignored it. "This is...amazing." Truly, I was at a loss of words. I never expected Greenwood to be something so mesmerizing.

I bent down to dip a few fingers into the lake, finding it to be at a refreshing temperature. Soon enough, my shoes were deposited in the grass, my jeans rolled up to my knees, and my hoodie resembling a cobweb, draped over a bush in an awkward angle. It was cold, but not so cold.

I started stepping on the stones, hopping from one to another.

It hadn't occurred to me that Fang had joined, and was collecting the flattest stones. By the time he had caught up to me, he had about seven of them in his his shirt, lifting it up with one hand in a bundle so that they wouldn't fall. Every so often, he would skip a few into the lake and see how many times it would skip.

Catching on, I started collecting stones, too, and it became a very animated competition between the two of us.

Four skips, two skips, seven skips. I felt like they were matching the erratic beating in my heart, although I wasn't even in close proximity to Fang.

Somehow, though, I felt better, like the argument with my mother hadn't even existed.

* * *

**I hope you liked it, and I'm REALLY going to try to update more frequently. **

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello there~! Christmas is coming up soon (Or Hanukkah is actually almost over and Kwanzaa is coming up. I don't know about Ramadan or any other holiday, though)! I'm pretty excited for it. **

**I've missed this story, so I thought I'd update on it for a little. This chapter is so fluffy :3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does!**

* * *

I didn't go to school today.

There must have been too much excitement in the days that I spent with Fang, because my usually dull life was unable to cooperate with him. It was a freezing day in late November, almost a month after I had met Fang. It was strange, to think back on all of the times that we spent together.

To have a friend.

I let out a cough that must have sounded like a mix between a car horn and a bullfrog weeping, but I didn't mind as much. My body rolled around in my bed, and I allowed myself to get tangled in the web of sheets atop the mattress. My nose started dripping from the mucus in it.

My mother and I still weren't talking. It was as if the one thing that I had done to express that I, Maximum Ride, was truly an individual shook her to a sense of disbelief. Was it so hard to imagine that I had a personality? That I had the ability to get angry at a person instead of smiling with the same fake smile I had for the two years since my father had died.

Shakily I brought a hand to my forehead, feeling the burning heat against it from the fever I had. My father was a completely different side of me. It was as if after he had died, a part of me was left behind. The fun, sarcastic part of me. The part of me that was like my father.

It was no wonder that my mother wanted that part to disappear.

But now that Fang was in my life, that part was growing again, bit by bit, attaching itself to me in rows of stitches. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't trust anyone again, ever since my father died. The anger that I felt after he had died, the absence of a father... It was too much.

_Knock._

Using my elbows, I propped myself on my bed enough to look out the square framed window to the left of my bed. Two of my fingers split a place in the blinds apart to unveil the typical rural neighborhood. The only thing at the door was a mess of black.

_Fang._

I sat up completely in bed, pushing up the blinds and opening the window. I was positive that my dripping nose and jostled hair would make me look disgusting, but all of those aspects were forgotten as I shoved my head outside it.

"Hey!" I shouted out, my voice a little nasally. I cupped my hand to my face and shivered as the wind whipped my hair out behind me. "Why aren't you at school?"

Fang let out a little smirk as he stepped back to see me fully. He was dressed in his usual ensemble, but there was a different air about him, as if he were lighter. "Nothing interesting," he shouted back.

"The door's open at the back!" I yelled. He nodded and jogged out of my vision.

I rolled out of bed after uncomfortably grabbing at the sheets. I was dressed in a thin pair of polka dotted shorts and a baggy black tee, which weren't exactly attire for company. My hands fumbled with the Kleenex box at my nightstand that I used to wipe my nose with. I put my hair up in a loose bun and shoved mismatched pink and green socks, deciding that it didn't matter.

"Hello," Fang said in his usual quiet manner as he saw me coming down the stairs. It was strange to see him in my house, where he stood out against all the light colored furniture.

"You didn't have to miss school because of me, you know," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"There's nothing interesting when you're not there," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. My eyes hit the floor as the familiar sense of the butterflies welled up in my stomach. Fang was wearing black socks.

"Do you want to play some video games?" I asked, almost uncertainly. Fang gave me a smile and nodded, and the butterflies felt like a swarm.

I led Fang to the basement, where my father had originally set his office up. It was untouched by my mother, and she hadn't gone down the stairs to the basement in two years. I, however, had moved the furniture into the hall that lead to the back door of our house and redecorated.

I smiled as I saw the familiar pictures of my father that I hadn't taken down. There was a sense of familiarity when I saw all of them, pictures of him and the artwork that I had drawn him as a child. His voice was still in my head, calling me his nickname, _Bee._

Fang perched himself on one of the red bean bag chairs by the television screen. I took the other next to him, and we turned on the GameCube.

"I haven't played GameCube in forever," Fang commented. It was true, we had gotten the GameCube when it came out in 2001. It felt like forever ago.

"It's the only system I have," I said, passing him a controller. The title screen for _Super Smash Brothers Melee _lit up on the screen. "This is an old game, but a good one."

Fang nodded in agreement, and we began to choose our characters. I chose Link, like always, and Fang took Mewtwo.

We talked amiably throughout the time playing, making trash talk and laughing at how stupid it was that we were getting this into the game.

"Well that wasn't nice," Fang commented as Link swung at him with his sword, flinging Mewtwo over the edge of the battlefield. Just before we lost sight of him, the stepping grenade that he had place at the beginning of the round activated, sending me shooting over the edge too.

"Neither was that," I said, hitting him with my knee. The words _Sudden Death! _appeared on the screen, and we looked at each other in a fit of determination.

I sneezed at the same time pressing random buttons, accidentally pushing myself to the corner of the stage. Fang tried to take the one blow it would take to kill me, but I jumped in the arm and slashed the sword against Mewtwo.

"I win!" I said, throwing the controller at him. My arms shook in an attempt at dancing victoriously. Fang frowned slightly before smiling. "What is it?" I asked.

Fang's eyes locked with mine. "It's good to see you truly happy."

My cheeks flared a bright red; I turned away from him and whispered a pathetic, "Shut up."

"I won't tell anyone," Fang whispered, turning me in his direction. I was suddenly aware that he was close to me. The proximity made my cheeks a brighter red.

"Thanks," I whispered. Why were we being so quiet? My happiness was acting like a secret, and neither of us could handle it.

I coughed again, and Fang moved away and sunk back in his bean bag, shaking his head while chuckling to himself. "Adorable," he said under his breath, unaware that I could hear it.

My cheeks were probably a scarlet by now, but I didn't think it mattered at that point.

I laughed, too, just to hear the sound come out and having it be _real _for once.

* * *

**Oh my god, this story is just too damn cute. I mean, seriously. I can't even handle it. Would you guys be okay if I made a, oh, I don't know...plot twist next chapter? ;)**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hiya! It's time...for You Had Me At Hello. Oh, man. This is a cute chapter. But I promised a plot twist and it's at the end of the chapter. And it's going to make everyone kill me, I'm positive.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, James Patterson does.**

* * *

I yawned. It was late, almost ten o' clock in the evening, but Fang was still at my house. We were in the middle of a game of Go Fish, and it had been becoming more heated as the time went on. Still, I found myself getting sleepier and sleepier.

"Got any kings?" I asked, holding my three cards.

"Go Fish."

I reached for the pile and took the card atop it, the four of diamonds. Instead of the deck being straight, it had been messed up from my hand swiping at it. At the same time, Fang and I went to fix it back to normal, our hands colliding. It was as if I was in one of the clichéd movies, and sparks flew up onto my hand. We both recoiled.

That, too, had been going on for the whole night. My mother hadn't returned, and Fang had promised to keep me company until she did. We had been playing various games of chess, The Legend of Zelda, and Sorry to pass the time. Now it was Go Fish, and the clock had just ticked to eleven, and my hand was almost sore from the amount of sparks that had been shooting into it.

"Sorry," I apologized awkwardly, like I had for the past four incidents that it had occurred.

"It's alright," Fang said, shrugging just as awkwardly. It was also his classic response.

We stayed up for a long while more watching The Walking Dead, but it wasn't as if we were actually paying attention to the program. Instead, we were asking each other questions about each other. The more we got into the game, the more I realized how little I knew about Fang.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked him, repositioning myself on the couch. We were sitting next to each other, and the close proximity was making my heart speed up. The sensation was unfamiliar and I couldn't quite place it.

"Alive," he responded, like it were so obvious. "Do you like it here in Greenwood?" His eyes bore into mine, already knowing the answer but wanting to confirm it anyway. In my opinion, it was a waste of a question.

"Hate it. I've just been there and done that too many times. Where did you move from?" A piece of my blonde hair flew into my face.

"…Canada." He said it like it was just a random country that had just popped into his head. I didn't have time to ponder it as he moved closer to me, his fingertips brushing my skin as he tucked the loose strand behind my ear. I sucked in a breath the whole time, only letting it out when he moved back to his seat. "Favorite color?"

"I don't know how to explain it," I said truthfully. He gave me a look that I couldn't decipher, but it made me answer anyway. "It's a watery orange, like the color of the ocean when you see the orange sunset against it." I blushed profusely. It was just the strangest preference. "Yours?"

Fang let out a slight chuckle as he crossed his legs. "Mine's also confusing. It's the color of ink, the black so dark that it's almost a blue."

I blinked a few times. It had seemed that he would have said something else, something short entirely to tease me. I felt my cheeks warming up as he asked me another question, but I wasn't listening. I was looking in his eyes, the brown like brewed coffee, blinking at how I had never seen him as so handsome before.

"What?" I asked stupidly, and bit my tongue. "I wasn't listening."

"I asked you if you could play an instrument." He raised an eyebrow.

Shakily, I blinked a few times. The memories were swimming in my eyes, drowning them so that it felt like tears were welling themselves inside of me. The piano; the instrument my father had loved and cared for like it was his second child. We hadn't touched it since he died, but I still remembered the slight tingle in my fingers as he accompanied me on the baby grand.

"The piano," I said breathily, shakily. I stood from my place on the couch, but I couldn't remember why I had done it in the first place.

Fang, too, sat up. "Are you alright?" he asked, but I knew that he could tell that the answer was no. "I can leave, if this is too much."

For some reason, that seemed like the worst thing that could happen. "Don't leave me."

It was as if Fang were the anchor that was keeping my feet on the ground. For some reason, I just needed him to be there. When I looked up at him, a look of shock was etched onto his face, like no one had ever wanted him near them before. It made me confused, but I wasn't sure it was just my imagination when he forced the look down and smiled wryly.

"Alright," he answered. "I won't leave you."

That was all I needed to hear before I slunk back into the couch, the pillows dragging me down. Fang lay next to me, trying to keep his distance, but it was futile. He snaked his arm underneath my waist and I found myself looking up at him.

He was playing with my hair, fingering the strands of it in between his thumb and forefinger like it was something peculiar. I just watched him do that for a long, long time. It was a while before I fell asleep, just lying there as he stroked my hair.

* * *

Fang was gone when I woke up in the morning. The only thing to have made sure that it wasn't a dream was that a pink stick-y note had his messy, boyish scrawl on it in a note.

_The piano is a lovely instrument._

A laugh escaped my throat. Of all the things he could write, that was it. It was so like Fang, who would finish his thoughts on paper instead of having them hang in the air for everyone to see. More observing rather than speaking.

I felt a hundred times better, finding myself humming as I got changed for school. The polka dotted shorts were discarded on the floor and replaced with maroon leggings, the black tee switched with a brown sweater for the November chill.

As I walked to school, listening to the patter of my footsteps on the pavement, I looked around the neighborhood. A few houses down, a woman was staring at me with intense, hazel eyes. I stopped walking and watched as she put her watering can down on the mossy grass floor by her petunias.

"May I help you?" I asked as she walked to meet me. Her sunhat had a pink feather sticking out of the rim, and her floral gown was a sky blue.

"I know the boy," she said, her voice raspy with disuse. Who was she talking about? The boy? Everyone knew each other in Greenwood. She could have simply used his name.

But then it hit me. Fang. Why was it that no one had known Fang?

"Yes?" I asked, keeping my tone calm and light like my mother had taught me. My plastic smile was forced onto my face as I tried to maintain the act of simplicity.

"Don't go near him, things are too good to be true. He will be the death of you, Maximum Ride. If you stay close to him, he will certainly kill you."

She walked away, picking up her watering can and continuing to tend to her petunias. My eyes felt like they were shooting out of my head, swirling into disbelief and fear at the same time. My backpack felt like it had weighed two hundred pounds, a single thought racing in my mind as I trembled.

_What?_

* * *

**Teehee...**

**~SilenceIsInfinite**


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